Angels in the Snow
by storytellers
Summary: After the events of 'It Was Christmas' Aziraphale has spent a year Up There trying to make sure Crowley and his family will be safe. Things have happened in that year - things Aziraphale isn't sure what to make of. Now he's back on Earth and excited to pay his favourite demon a visit in his new home but someone unexpected is waiting for him and things may get complicated.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I make no profit. Az and Crowley belong to Gaimen and Pratchett. Christmas belongs to Coca Cola. :P

**Author's Note: **Hello everyone! It has been a long time since 'It Was Christmas' which this is a sequel to. Much as I adore A/C, in 'It Was Christmas' I explored the option of pairing them with other characters. This continues in the same fashion. The reason this even exists is that a friend of mine sent me the most amazing present and re-ignighted for the hundredth time my passion for Good Omens and my inspiration, so I thought why not. I do reccomend you read the original, otherwise this will make very little sense. On second thought, it might not make sense anyway ;P

Also, footnotes are in parenthesis within the story because having to scroll down irritates me. ;)

Have fun!

**Angels in the Snow**

(Sequel to 'It Was Christmas')

**Part One**

There was an angel on top of the tree.

To tell the truth, Aziraphale had always found the idea of putting angels on top of Christmas trees a bit strange, especially since it often looked like the angels had the trees shoved up their…

Never mind.

The point was, the large Christmas tree in the middle of the Tadfield square had a _real angel _sitting on top of it. (*That tree had grown improbably tall and lush in the last year. The truth was, a certain demon was periodically intimidating it.) He had his wings out and was miraculously balancing on a small bow that normally would not have even supported the weight of a sparrow. His arms were crossed, his back was straight and his expression was that of solemn nobility. He was also – inexplicably – dressed as a Christmas elf in a green shirt with matching shorts, red-and-white stockings and red suspenders. His muscular chest strained beneath the shirt. Aziraphale carefully lowered the packages he was carrying to the ground and adjusted his purely decorative glasses as if that would somehow change the image before him. It didn't.

"Uh… Michael?" he tried.

The Head of Heaven's Army looked down and finally spotted him.

"Oh, here you are, Aziraphale, I was starting to wonder if you would show up," he said, leaping off the tree and landing gracefully on the snow-covered ground. (*Lower Tadfield always had the most wonderful snow at Christmas. Adam made sure of it.) Michael's human form looked more angelic than Aziraphale's. It was tall and in good shape with handsome features and shoulder-length blond curls. Normally he was clad in impressive-looking golden armour. His current outfit was pretty impressive in its own way. The little bells tied to his elf shoes jingled. Aziraphale tried not to stare.

"Yes, here I am," the Principality said. "That's me. Uh… Were you waiting for me?"

Michael nodded.

This couldn't be good, could it? When Aziraphale had last seen the Archangel about a week ago, they had parted on rather… complicated terms. Aziraphale had spent almost all year in Heaven, trying to convince other angels to leave Crowley and his family alone. (*Of course, there was no time in Heaven but Aziraphale remained aware of Earth time by habit.) It had been a surprisingly eventful year, considering this was Heaven we're talking about. He wasn't sure what to make of it by the end but at least it had seemed like he had won. He had returned to Earth with a sense of accomplishment and the intention to surprise Crowley with a visit for Christmas. He missed the bastard. But here was Michael now. His sudden appearance made the Principality very nervous.

"What can I do for you?" Aziraphale asked finally because it seemed more polite than 'What the Manchester do you want?' which was what had first come to mind.

"I came to… look around," Michael said. "To try to understand why you're so attached to this place."

"Tadfield? I'm not particularly attached to Tadfield, it's just that Crowley, well, he's not particularly attached to it either, he prefers London, but he moved here because the place has a certain, uh, quality about it. You see, humans don't age here unless Adam wants them to so that's very good for Molly and, besides, she says it's a good place to raise a child so…"

Michael looked like he would roll his eyes if such a gesture wasn't unbecoming of an angel of his rank.

"Not Tadfield, Aziraphale. Earth. I still don't understand what's so fascinating about it."

"Ah… Well, that takes a while to understand, I'm afraid."

Michael cast a sceptical look around. "This is what you exchanged Heaven for? I offer to relieve you of your lousy job as an agent here and you turn me down for what? Is there really something I am missing about Earth or are you so in love with your demon that you can't bring yourself to leave him behind?"

"I am not in love with him, de-" Aziraphale stopped himself before the highly inappropriate 'dear' could leave his mouth. He'd already started using the tone of a slightly exasperated teacher and was astonished at himself. A while ago he would have been extremely nervous in front of a high-ranking angel, not to say a bit scared but… well… things had happened. The near-Apocalypse for one thing. Fighting angels with a flaming poker to defend Crowley's baby last Christmas for another. And for a third, he and Michael…

He cleared his throat. "I am thankfully not in love with him in the sense you seem to be implying. He's _taken_. Under the circumstances, that would be a predicament worthy of a bebop song."

Michael frowned. "What is a bebop song?"

Aziraphale shook his head. "You are better off not knowing. My point is that I am not in love with Crowley. Is this what you came to check?"

"Not specifically. I told you. I came to understand why you turned me down."

Aziraphale softened. "I didn't turn you down, my b-… My general, I didn't turn _you_ down. Just your offer. I _like_ it here."

"You don't like Heaven?"

Aziraphale bit his lip. "Look… I belong here. It's not personal. I'm not quite me in Heaven."

"I don't see anything wrong with who you are in Heaven. Three times, Aziraphale! Three times you've turned your back on me! First you get yourself demoted and out of my army by losing your sword, then you refuse to join us for The End and now not only do you solely come to Heaven for the sake of that _Crawly_ but, given the choice, you pick his company over ours! You showed so much promise back before Eden but every time I see a hint of that promise you… you…"

"It's getting late and I would like to get there before the baby is asleep..."

"Do not talk to me in that tone! Like you are politely dismissing me! YOU WILL GIVE ME THE TIME OF DAY!"

Aziraphale sighed.

"Does it have to be _this _day? You saw me last week."

"We have unfinished business, the demon will wait."

"Michael, they will finish all the sherry trifle. I am awfully fond of sherry trifle."

"You are waving me off in favour of food?"

"That's not it. I simply can't seem to find a way to explain to you… Come join me?"

The offer shot out of Aziraphale's mouth before he could stop it. A moment later his brain registered that this was the most terrible idea he had had in a long while but, well, Michael had sounded so _neglected_... At any rate, the Archangel was looking at him like he was crazy. Surely he would refuse.

"Join you while you pay a visit to a demon? _Not_ to thwart him but to give him _presents_?"

Aziraphale gave him a little sheepish smile and shrugged, bending down to pick up his now slightly soggy packages. He miracle them dry and looked at the Archangel again.

Michael seemed to be contemplating the offer. "Very well," he said finally.

Aziraphale's jaw dropped. "Really?"

"Perhaps I should see with my own eyes if that demon is really not all that bad."

"Right. Lovely. Uh… The thing is…" Aziraphale shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Crowley was going to kill him. "You won't _do_ anything to them, will you? It would hardly be fair, what with Crowley being weaker than usual and with a defenceless woman and small child in the house…"

Michael gave him an irritated glare. "And what would you do if I did, Aziraphale? Would you fight me with a poker like you fought my troops? Try to discorporate me?"

"Well, I…" _Probably_, Aziraphale thought. _Most likely. Yes. But I would really, really rather not._

Michael sighed. "I already gave you my word that I wouldn't harm them when you left Heaven. I'm hurt that you're making me promise twice, you evidently don't trust me."

Aziraphale blushed bright pink. "I'm terribly sorry, you're right. I'm delighted you're joining me and I'm sure Crowley will be…" He paused. There was a limit to how blatantly an angel could lie. "I'm sure he'll be very surprised," he said.

Michael snorted. "No doubt."

"Uh, Michael?" Aziraphale asked as they made their way to the Crowleys' house to the accompaniment of Michael's jingling shoes.

"Yes, Aziraphale?"

"I hope you don't mind me asking but… why are you dressed like this?"

"The human clothes? I wanted us to have an informal chat and I thought armour would not be appropriate. You like Earthly things so much so I looked into a human's head to check what they thought was appropriate for the season and this came up. Why, what's wrong with it?"

"Oh… Oh, no, nothing's really wrong! It's very… very endearing, really." _Someone help Crowley if he starts laughing and pointing._

Crowley didn't laugh when he opened the door. He stared for half a moment before his expression became panicky. Aziraphale hastened to lift his hands in calming gesture.

"Crowley, dear boy, Merry Christmas! We're only here on a social visit, I hope you don't mind. You didn't know I was back from Up There, did you? Surprise! And Michael was just, uh, passing by…" He smiled in a way he hoped was reassuring to the demon.

Crowly didn't looked all that reassured. He kept looking between the two angels as if he expected them to explode.

"Aziraphale…" he began slowly but then didn't seem to know how to finish the sentence.

"What's daddy doing now?" a woman's voice cooed from inside the house. "Wanna see what daddy's doing?"

And then Molly Crowley (*Molly was the woman withone of the most interesting prenups ever written.) showed up at the door carrying baby Henry who was holding a chocolate biscuit. Her eyes fell on Aziraphale and the pile of presents.

"Oh, Aziraphale! We haven't seen you in ages!" She pushed past Crowley to kiss his cheek and only then saw Michael who was a step behind. She paused to survey him, took in his outfit, noticed the wings and her smile thinned slightly. Since her experiences the previous year Molly was still a little disinclined to be nice to any angel or demon who was not Aziraphale or Crowley. "Well, Az, I see you've brought a friend," she said sweetly. "Who is he and why does he look like he's about to take part in Christmas-themed porn?"

There was a pause in which Henry dropped his biscuit and started making indignant noises. Crowley gave a strange little squeak. Aziraphale's shoulders began shaking suspiciously. Michael blinked.

"What do you mean, child?" he asked.

"Oh, it's a compliment, love. Great abs for an elf."

"Biwkit," Henry said.

"Mol," said Crowley in a slightly strangled voice, "This is Archangel Michael."

"Oh…" She stepped back, holding Henry tighter and giving Michael a suspicious look. "Well, I suppose that explains the abs if he's Heaven's best warrior. Wasn't it your troops trying to kill my son last year?"

Michael had the decency to look uncomfortable under her glare.

"We have decided that was a bit of a misunderstanding," he said.

"Biwkit," Henry said.

Aziraphale had a sudden stroke of inspiration. "He's here on a visit of good will to smooth things over!" he said.

Both Crowley and Michael gave him an eyebrow but Aziraphale pretended not to notice. "Really, Crowley, my boy, it's quite all right, you can let us in." He patted the demon's arm.

Crowley exchanged a look with Molly who shrugged. Finally, he hesitantly stepped aside. After all, it was unlikely that the Archangel could hurt them here – this was Adam's territory and the Them seemed to rather like Henry, even if they still saw the baby as something like an interesting alien.

"Aziraphale, what _is_ wrong with my clothes?" Michael muttered as they stepped over the threshold.

"They are… Well, they are… They are a bit too dressy. If you will allow me…"

He waved a hand and Michael's clothes changed. Aziraphale nodded to himself, satisfied. He'd had an inkling that tartan may not suit the Archangel very well. With that option out, he had done his best and he thought the result was… well, rather dashing.

Michael was now wearing a pair of light beige trousers and a cheerful sweater with Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer on the front. Crowley's palm hit his face but he said nothing as he followed the two angels inside the house.

**A/N: **Part two to come before Christmas, please review :) 3


	2. Chapter 2

_About a year earlier…_

Heaven worked slowly. Granted, Hell wasn't _terribly_ fast either, but demons were generally more impatient. Especially demons on desk jobs who wanted to get souls sorted and their eternal damnation delivered as soon as possible so that they could at least enjoy the show. Heaven was in no hurry. Aziraphale had been very tempted to pretend nothing had happened and hope they would forget about his little poker-wielding stunt and the fact he had discorporated a Cherubim, on top of aiding a demon. The trouble was that it wasn't only himself he had to think about. It wasn't even just Crowley. If Up There decided to go after the baby (who was now named Henry simply because Molly liked the name) again they wouldn't let Aziraphale know and then bad things could happen before he even realised they were happening. So he'd gathered his courage and gone to them instead, half-wondering if they would even let him through the Gates. After all, it was possible that this had been the final straw and he had finally Fallen but the paperwork hadn't come through yet.

Once he'd gotten there and explained the purpose of his visit, he'd been put in a room and politely told to wait until a hearing could be arranged. At first he'd been too nervous to do anything but sit and chew on his lip but there was only so long one could stay consumed with worry. He'd eventually gone out of his room to take a look around. He hadn't been back here in a very long time – the Arrangement ensured there were not that many opportunities for him to be discorporated.

Heaven hadn't really changed. Aziraphale was old-fashioned by nature (pretty much regardless of what the fashions were) and usually found comfort in familiarity, but even he grudgingly admitted that part of Earth's appeal was how changeable it was. Heaven had become like one of those old photographs or souvenirs you keep as a memento. He came back periodically, looked around and thought something like '_oh, yes, this was how it used to be back then, good old days and all'_, and then he went back to his life on Earth. He noted – not for the first time and with a pang of guilt – that he was finding the thought of actually living in Heaven rather depressing. Even so, he did feel a bit nostalgic when he passed the Cherubim training grounds. He secretly treasured the memory of himself as a Cherubim the same way Adam's dad (the human one) liked to recount his glorious days on the football field in high-school. He'd actually rather enjoyed sword fighting as… as a sport? He didn't normally like hurting things and most of the time he preferred settling down with a good book or a good bottle of wine and good company, but every once in a while… Well, his fingers itched a little. Watching Michael's fighters train now, he had to admit he was a bit envious. Plus, there was something to be said about how pretty the armour was.

"Aziraphale?"

Aziraphale, jumped, spun around and found himself nose-to-chin with Michael himself. He took a step back so he could actually see the Archangel's face.

"Oh, hello! Hello. Long time, no see, uh, general."

"Indeed," Michael said, examining him with what looked like curiosity. "Is this your preferred form now?"

Aziraphale, who hadn't bothered to change his earthly looks when he had set off for Heaven, suddenly felt self-conscious. He smoothed down his tartan waistcoat.

"Yes. Yes, I suppose it is. Not very, uh, glamorous, I realise but it blends in with the humans and all that…"

"It's interesting."

"Right…"

Aziraphale wasn't quite sure what that meant or what he should say about it. Fortunately, Michael spoke again before the silence became too long.

"You discorporated one of my Cherubim."

Aziraphale shuffled his feet. "Yes, uh… sorry about that."

"And I hear you are here now in defence of that same demon child you were defending that night?"

Aziraphale looked up at him, then down, then up again. "It's technically only _half_ a demon child. Honestly, it's just a baby, Michael. Would you have really killed a baby?"

"Not before making sure it was completely evil, of course. But you were wrong to keep us from it. For all we know it may not have anything human about it at all."

"He seems pretty human to me. Well, he's inherited the snake eyes but…" Aziraphale muttered the last bit to himself.

"If that's true, then he should be removed from the influence of that demon, along with the mother. As for the fiend in question, he must be disposed of lest he attempt something similar again. Honestly, that sort of thing violates all possible... We haven't had such a scandal since that unfortunate business with the Nephilim, and the guilty parties were justly punished on that occasion."

"Oh, now, now, that's hardly necessary!" Aziraphale said quickly. "I'm _fairly _certain Crowley isn't planning on impregnating any more women and this time was an accident. And, look, he's always been my responsibility, I'll manage him."

Michael narrowed his eyes. "It looks pretty clear to me that you are being manipulated, Aziraphale, I would be very careful. Anyway, it will all be decided at the hearing. Your reasons aside, I was rather intrigued to hear about the incident. I know you picked up a flaming sword during the whole, ah, end-of-the-world rehearsal business but you never actually used it. This time though… With a _poker_?"

Aziraphale squirmed a little. "I'm afraid so, yes."

"Against five Cherubim."

"Well…"

"Would you care to demonstrate?"

"Excuse me?" it came out as a squeak, despite Aziraphale's best efforts.

Michael smirked. "In a purely friendly fight, of course. We don't want anyone to get hurt, I'm just curious. I'm rather sad I wasn't there to see you fight, Aziraphale, it's been very long since Eden."

"You want me to fight five other angels?"

"Oh, one will do."

"You don't mean… _you_, do you?"

Michael laughed. "Me? No, that would end rather quickly and I'd like to watch, not participate."

Aziraphale looked around for some evidence he was being pranked but, of course, angels didn't do pranks. "I'm not sure I… It was more of a one-off thing…"

"Come now, indulge me."

Michael was handing him his sword and Aziraphale felt almost sure for a moment that this was a fancy way for him to be punished. Destroyed even? Had he done anything to warrant that? He didn't think so… No. No, if that was the case they'd let him know first, in no uncertain terms. Right?

He took the sword hesitantly as Michael called over one of the angels who had been training and dismissed the rest. Aziraphale secretly hoped this one wasn't one of the ones he had fought on Earth. He wasn't sure he'd recognise them, it had all happened rather fast. Of course, angels were not _supposed_ to be vindictive. Somehow, that thought wasn't reassuring right now. He carefully removed his jacket and waistcoat before spreading his wings. Ah, another shirt ruined.

He started the fight with the intention of losing as quickly as was politely possible without looking like he was doing it on purpose. He realised very quickly that he didn't have to pretend. The other angel was – unsurprisingly – much better. Last time he'd fought, Aziraphale had been fuelled by fear for the lives of a friend and an innocent baby. Without that, his skills dropped back down to those of an out-of-shape bookseller who'd played around with swords for a bit in his youth. Well, he could at least show off his few good moves to Michael before letting himself be defeated. He tried a few more daring tricks. Unfortunately, that seemed to get the Cherubim a little too excited. He launched an overenthusiastic attack that Aziraphale wasn't at all prepared to block or evade. There was a wet tearing sound and the Cherubim's sword lodged itself between his ribs on his right side.

"Oh, dear!" the Cherubim said. "I'm terribly sorry, I thought you'd move."

Aziraphale blinked at the blade sticking from his chest. "Ow," he said. "Ow. Ow. That's not very pleasant." He swayed a bit and was about to topple backwards before someone caught him and lowered him carefully to the ground.

"I did not anticipate this," Michael muttered irritably from where he was now kneeling beside him. "I should have put you in armour first."

"I'm afraid the armour might have been a bit tight on this body," Aziraphale said before pulling the blade out with a wince and handing it to the very awkward-looking cherubim who was stepping from foot to foot. "You'll need this back, dear, wouldn't want to lose it." Then he looked regretfully at the mess on his chest. It hurt but that wasn't his main concern at the moment. "I don't suppose this can be healed? Flaming sword wounds tend to be a bit beyond my own capabilities."

Michael lifted his bloody shirt to take a look at the wound and shrugged. "Rafael might be able to do something but surely you don't _need_ your human body here, you could simply…"

"I am rather attached to it, thank you," Aziraphale said as firmly as he could manage.

He was always very weary of getting discorporated. The annoyingly long wait for the paperwork aside, he was vaguely afraid that one of these days he might not be given another body; that they'd just decide to keep him Upstairs.

Michael gave him a look which clearly communicated he thought Aziraphale was being foolish, but sent the cherubim to fetch Rafael anyway.

"I really didn't mean for you to get hurt," the Archangel said. "I just wanted to see you in action."

Aziraphale shrugged and tried to push himself up. "Not much of a sight, I'm afraid. Would you please…"

"Oh, of course, here… Ow!"

"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry! It was a reflex. Are you all right?"

Michael spat a couple of white feathers and rubbed his nose which Aziraphale's wing had just slammed into when he had tried to prop the injured angel up and his wings had instinctively flapped. "I suppose I deserved at least that for getting you wounded."

"Oh, dear me, I didn't do it on purpose!"

Michael snorted; then outright laughed. "No, I'm sure you didn't, Aziraphale, don't look so petrified. Here we are now, lean on my shoulder. I hope this is more comfortable. As for your skills with a sword, well, you weren't too bad considering how little practice you've had. I always thought it was a pity you left us."

"Ancient history, that," Aziraphale said, trying not to be bothered by the fact that he had just nearly broken an Archangel's nose and was now dripping blood on him. "I remember you were very angry, though. Angrier than… Him, it seemed."

"It was a waste of a good warrior. Well, a decent warrior. In all honesty… it was duller without you. You always had the most peculiar ideas about things. Perhaps too peculiar sometimes but I suppose if you have managed to remain an angel for this long… We rather missed you."

"Oh… Ohhh. I never knew that."

They were interrupted by the arrival of Rafael who clicked his tongue as he got down to business.

"Well, your corporation is good as new," he declared finally. "Your angelic essence will be slightly bruised for a while."

"I feel I owe you an apology for the trouble," Michael said, helping Aziraphale up to his feet. "Will you join me for some manna while we listen to Elgar?"

Aziraphale had to clamp a hand over his mouth in order not to giggle. It sounded like something Crowley would say as a joke except Michael was perfectly serious. "Ah, Elgar, yes. Good old Elgar. Of course. Delighted."


End file.
